


Merry Christmas, Tony Stark

by imawalkingtravesty



Series: Tony Stark and Various Celebrations [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcoholic Tony Stark, Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Canon Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Civil War (Marvel), Depressed Tony Stark, Depression, Domestic Avengers, Gen, Heavy Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Iron Man 3 Compliant, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Lonely Tony Stark, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Precious Peter Parker, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Sad Tony Stark, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Just Wants A Family, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imawalkingtravesty/pseuds/imawalkingtravesty
Summary: “Stark. You okay?” Natasha asked.“What?” Tony blinked twice, and looked up at Natasha’s waiting face. “Yeah. I’m great. It’s just, it’s- I’m-” he cut himself off, waving his hand at the display in front of him. “Christmas.”“You forget the date?” Clint joked, then tossed a wrapped present at his face. “Here; this one’s yours.”In which Tony's Christmas wish of having a family gets fulfilled, and he forgets what it's like to be truly alone until he is.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Series: Tony Stark and Various Celebrations [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570453
Comments: 21
Kudos: 442
Collections: i love these





	1. Chapter 1

Christmas time, the holidays, it was always a difficult time for Tony Stark.

Seeing everybody walking around with families and such always pained him. It reminded him of how alone he was, about how everyone had a functional family, all alive and well, and it just made him sick.

When he was young, Christmas Eve was spent at a work Christmas party, with his father drinking champagne out of a small flute that got many refills as the night wore on. Tony spent the majority of it underneath his father’s arm, being introduced to his father’s many work friends, and getting threatening shoulder squeezes as warnings to not act up. Painting the image of a picture-perfect family; trophy wife, smart husband, and perfect happy, polite, little boy.

Christmas morning when Tony was younger was almost a carbon copy of all the Christmas mornings prior. He went downstairs, hugged his mom and nodded at his dad, and opened his presents. Jarvis had the day off, but always gave him a stationary set. Mom always gave him new school supplies. Dad gave him a suit for conference meetings. It was a bit big, but “You’ll grow into it. By then, you’ll be prepared well enough to attend meetings with me.”

And then he put his things away and lay on his bed, listening to his mother’s piano playing floating up from the living room downstairs. His dad was back in the workshop, and the morning was like any other, besides the turkey that the cooks were getting ready along with a large array of plum pudding. Howard didn’t care about giving the cooks or the maid the day off, only Jarvis and Ana got to spend time together.

And he waited until it was time to go to mass, where there was tight collars and snug shoes and prayers and thanking Jesus Christ for being born on Christmas Day. Maria always encouraged Tony to be part of the church choir, but Tony didn’t want to. He was afraid that Howard wouldn’t support it or that he’d mess up and embarrass the family.

But as the years went on, Tony started to refuse to attend the work parties, and wouldn’t emerge from bed until the afternoon. His dad would yell at him that he was going to be late for mass, but Tony didn’t care. It wasn’t like he enjoyed sitting in the hard church pews and lazily mouthing the words to songs. The magic of Christmas had lost him. It was just another day, starting with Howard yelling at him, and ending with everyone being disappointed in the mistake named Tony Stark.

He would emerge downstairs around noon to find empty hallways and empty rooms, the clanging of tools from the basement, and still-wrapped gifts under the tree. Often he would peek around the nearby corners just in case someone was watching him, but nobody ever was. He would open the gifts, smile at Jarvis’s, his mother’s, and make a neutral face at his dad’s (always a new suit, reminding Tony of his sole purpose as a Stark). Then he’d put all of his new gifts away and head back upstairs to call Rhodey, and he would spend his Christmas laughing at momma Rhodes’s jokes and only hung up when it was time to eat Christmas dinner, at a quiet table with people who didn’t know how to communicate with each other.

(And who’s fault was that? Howard was the one who sent him away, who encouraged him to attend a school as far away as possible. They were just strangers, living in the same house together).

When his parents died, he didn’t really know how to feel. How to celebrate Christmas, if he were to celebrate. Obie had dropped by with a wine basket and his condolences even though Tony was underage, Jarvis had been dead for years, and he had an empty house to himself. Everyone was dead and gone, and Tony didn’t know how to feel. He spent Christmas Eve drunk, and ended up passing out in his room around eleven.

Tony woke up on Christmas morning with a headache, and crept downstairs, not knowing what to expect. He was met with nothing but the wine basket from Obie under the tree. The piano was cold. There was no clanging in the basement of tools from Howard’s work. 

He plunked out a Christmas tune on the piano, but it sounded hollow. The tune echoed around the empty house, and rang back into deafening silence, finally fading out. He really was alone, the realization sinking into his chest, and he remembered why he spent the night before drunk out of his mind. It helped to not feel anything. The emptiness was too much, he needed alcohol to fill it, or to at least numb it.

He picked up the Pinot Noir from the wine basket, and sunk on the couch dejectedly. Obie hadn’t even gotten him the good stuff. He read the label over and over, tossing the bottle from side to side to each of his hands, letting tears run down his cheeks. He sat there for hours, only ceasing the motion every once in awhile to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Then the doorbell rang and he got up to answer it, not caring that he was in his boxers and an MIT sweatshirt. If it was the press, to hell with it. He’d say he was grieving.

It was Rhodey’s face at his door, along with his momma Rhodes. Tony stepped backward in surprise, his brain taking a while to process that there was somebody he knew and actually enjoyed being with at his door. 

“We figured you could use company, Tones,” Rhodey smiled, eyes full of sympathy.

Tony couldn’t respond; the words were stuck in his throat, so he swallowed hard and nodded, stepping back so that they could enter the household. He noticed both of the Rhodes’s cautious glances, and he hastily wiped his eyes, kind of numb to the horror that would normally follow the realization that he was crying. He was glad that Rhodey didn’t say anything.

After Rhodey set up the kitchen with ingredients and momma Rhodes got baking and cooking, he sat down on the couch and Tony followed. He sank into the cushions and closed his eyes, running his hands over them to get rid of the morning’s hangover and the dried tears on his face. He really wasn’t expecting company today.

“You okay?” Rhodey said. Tony felt a hand on his shoulder.

Tony opened his eyes and stared guiltily at the present in Rhodey’s hands, then closed his eyes, his breath leaving his body. “You got me a present.”

“Tony-”

“I don’t have anything for you,” Tony shook his head, interrupting Rhodey.

“It’s fine-”

“I couldn’t get out of the house,” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hold it together. “I couldn’t- I’m-”

“It’s alright, Tones,” Rhodey squeezed his shoulder. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Tony felt the present being pressed into his hand, and he forced his other hand down from his face. The gift was malleable, soft, like it contained clothing. He cautiously tore open the wrapping paper, and a grey sweater fell out. He unfolded it, and the familiar university font was lettered on the front, but it spelled something different, not MIT like his own had. 

“Rhodes,” Tony whispered, reading the lettering, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“They’re like Weasley jumpers. Y’know, from Harry Potter?” Rhodey grinned, explaining. “You’re an honorary part of the Rhodes family.”

Tony pulled off his MIT sweatshirt and replaced it with the Rhodes one, unable to contain the ear-to-ear smile on his face. 

A family. He could get behind that.

But even as an honorary member of the Rhodes family he still felt like an intruder. He always got an invitation from Rhodey to spent the holidays at his place, but as he slowly gained more control over the company, Obie was demanding more, and he always felt like he was interrupting something whenever he went over to the Rhodes’. They had a large family, with many cousins, and he always felt like he didn’t belong, no matter how much Rhodey stuck by his side and made sure that everyone was interacting with him okay.

In the later years, every Christmas Eve and morning, he gave everyone at SI the day off, even Pepper and Happy, and spent his days alone. At least, he tried to. Rhodey always managed to spoil his plans, not that he was complaining. He always made sure Tony never spent the holidays alone, and Tony was eternally grateful.

But even with Rhodey and his pick-me-up squad (mother and umpteen cousins that all collectively kidnapped him to spend the day with them), he still longed for a perfect Christmas, with a happy family, and to stop dreading the whole month of December. The whole ‘death anniversary’ on December sixteenth made him miserable, and mixed with seeing happy families all together, it just made him realize that he was really alone. He just wanted a good Christmas.

And the Avengers gave it to him.

He didn’t expect much later, a few days after Christmas, when he drove up to the tower after having lost his mansion, lost his suits, nearly lost his girlfriend and his own life. 

“Hey, Stark, glad to see you among the land of the living,” Clint grinned, after Tony put down his (few) bags in the communal room.

“And where were you when I was presumed dead?” Tony smiled, pulling Clint in for a hug.

“Good to see you,” Clint clapped him on the back instead of answering.

The rest of the team followed suit, congratulating him on being alive, giving him a friendly hug, or a late merry Christmas. There was still a decent quantity of turkey and Christmas food leftover from the initial party (without Tony, honestly), so they decided to make a feast out of it. Late Christmas was better than no Christmas, especially since Tony had just gone through one of the worst Christmases of his life. To top it all off, Rhodey was sent back to do his military duties since the Holidays were over. 

“Where’s Cap?” Tony asked, accepting a wine glass from Thor.

“The Captain of the Free States is working off all of the holiday weight,” Thor answered, his eyes twinkling. “But I am not worried of a little stomach around these festive times.”

Tony smiled up at him, and took a sip of wine. “JARVIS?” he asked.

“Mr Rogers is heading up in the elevator, sir,” JARVIS said, giving a clear answer. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Steve walked into the room, his head high. He gave everyone smiles, but visibly stopped once his eyes rested on Tony. He gave him a slight head nod and a tight smile, but Tony stood up.

“Quit the formalities, Cap. We’re a team now, right?” he said, and held out his hand for Steve to shake.

“Glad to have you back,” Steve smiled, his shoulders relaxing. He took Tony’s hand, and suddenly everything was okay again.

The makeup Christmas was one of the best days he’d ever experienced, full of laughter and food and people and kindness. He didn’t exactly count it as Christmas, but it left him feeling festive and full, and for the first time in a long time, truly content that he was alive and talking. He had Pepper, a great team, and a great time.

In fact, it was probably the first time in a long time that he was truly enjoying life.

The year after that was a great Christmas as well. He woke up after Jarvis had turned the lights up as bright as they could go, saying that the team requested his presence in the common area, and “have a very Merry Christmas, sir.” Pepper wasn’t in bed beside him, so she must’ve gotten up earlier. Tony groggily stepped into his house shoes and pulled on the sweater he received from Rhodey back from the first Christmas they spent together, and headed for the elevator.

The Christmas tree was full. Presents. Bacon sizzling on the stove. It was...Christmas.

Tony stood in the doorway as the team was passing around presents, Pepper beside them, keeping close to the kitchen to watch the food, leaning in the doorway. Picture perfect Christmas, and Tony Stark was actually a part of it? Like, a family? Like, he didn’t actually feel like he was intruding so much like he did with the Rhodes’?

“Stark. You okay?” Natasha asked.

“What?” Tony blinked twice, and looked up at Natasha’s waiting face. “Yeah. I’m great. It’s just, it’s- I’m-” he cut himself off, waving his hand at the display in front of him. “Christmas.”

“You forget the date?” Clint joked, then tossed a wrapped present at his face. “Here; this one’s yours.”

Tony caught the present, and stared at it dumbfounded. “Mine?”

“You’re acting like you’ve never celebrated Christmas,” Clint rolled his eyes. Natasha glared at him, and he shrank back against the couch, realizing. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Christmas,” Tony repeated, tossing the present around from hand to hand, getting used to the fact. 

“Come sit,” Bruce said, patting the space on the couch beside him. Tony walked over and sat down, still staring at the gift-wrapped box in his hands. It was hard and rectangular, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“This is called a present. You open it,” Clint said loudly and slowly, demonstrating with his own gift. Tony shot a glare at him before opening it, and revealing a DVD set of Charlie Brown holiday specials. 

“I used to watch these as a kid,” Clint said, appearing above Tony’s shoulder, leaning over the couch. “It’s this kid; he’s bald. His name is Charlie. And he’s just trying his best, but he’s a bit of a loser, so it doesn’t always work out well. Anyway, it’s a classic, and JARVIS told me that you haven’t seen any of them, at least to his knowledge.”

Tony wasn’t able to find the words, but choked out a “Thank you.” 

Clint grinned. “Merry Christmas, Stark. Thanks for the personalized Hawk-Ass mug. I’ll treasure it forever.”

Tony vaguely remembered getting that mug commissioned. He barely remembered getting any of the other’s presents. He couldn’t think, just stared at the boxed set of Charlie Brown DVD’s like it was his lifeline.

He ended up getting a cordless electric drill from Bruce (“Prime dad tools,” Clint had commented), a large container of rum-spiked chocolates from Natasha, a clock made out of an AC/DC vinyl from Steve, a mug with Fluoride, Uranium, Carbon, Potassium Off written on it from Natasha, and a weird fruit-like produce from Thor, who said that it went great with salads and gave energy “even when one has been running for years on end.”

Pepper came into the room and kissed Tony on the cheek, before giving him a small gift bag. Tony pulled the tissue paper off of the top and revealed...socks. With his face on every inch of the fabric.

“Strangely enough, I love it,” Tony grinned, tearing off the packaging. “Did you get your gift?”

“I’m glad to see it wasn’t a giant bunny again,” Pepper smiled fondly and pulled back her sleeve to show the very, very expensive bracelet.

“I made Natasha a similar one,” Tony pointed out, fingering the bracelet. “See, if you press the button on the clasp, it will all come together and you get a knife. And if you unravel the wire, you get twenty feet of string able to hold an elephant.”

“What else did I expect,” Pepper rolled her eyes.

“I’ve gotta protect my girls,” Tony said proudly. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful, Tony.”

“But do you really, really like it? Not like the bunny?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Clint interrupted. “A bunny?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony told Clint. “Anyway, you’re out of the kitchen, does that mean food’s ready?”

They spent the rest of the day in laughter and drinks, having a good time. Tony was glad and he finally felt the overwhelming, cheesy, heart-warming feeling that he was part of a family. The Avengers, a group of adults who were so, so lonely, and they all found each other. They all have a new family, and it may have been a mess, but it was family. Tony couldn't stop smiling, amid a nagging voice in his head that told him not to get used to it, that he’ll drive everyone away and be lonely again. To savour these Christmases with the team because they won’t be here forever.

The voice was right.

The fight over the accords was a mess.

Pepper was gone, Happy gone with her. Always her. “A break,” she had said, but it was clear that she wasn’t planning on coming back. Nat, Clint, Steve, all gone and run away with their new crew. Vision was out trying to find Wanda. Thor was away, off on his own adventures, and Bruce, his science bro, gone on some spaceship in the middle of nowhere, probably not going to return. Rhodey was in Canada, having a good time getting some treatment for his back. Tony’s fault. If he hadn’t dragged Rhodey into the mess, if he had made the suit better, _if he was just fast enough-_

That left Tony Stark alone, on December sixteenth.

And it was hell. He drank the entire day, and damn near killed himself. Pepper had called, but he didn’t answer. He watched the phone ring until the noise bore into his head and it was all he knew until it stopped. No voicemail was left, nothing telling Tony to call back or for God’s sake let her know that he’s alive, so Tony just left it and poured a little more into his glass.

And then Vision actually showed up, just as Tony was getting comfortable on the floor. Not by choice, obviously. He had fallen. At least, he thought so. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had thought that the floor looked suddenly really comfortable while he was drunk and whoops there went his feet and wow the ground was so much closer than he thought.

“Something tells me that I have to be present on every December sixteenth,” Vision said, in the stupid JARVIS voice that he missed so bad that it sent a pang through his chest. 

Rhodey used to do this. Tony would drink himself until he couldn’t stand, until he couldn’t feel _because that was the point goddammit_ and Rhodey would pick him up. He would take the bottle from his grip, or the glass, or the can or whatever, and gently lift him off the ground. Then he’d be tucked into bed (maybe after a few sessions of hugging a toilet bowl), and wake up in the morning with a splitting headache and a concerned Rhodey by his bedside, quick with a garbage can and a handful of memorized addiction pamphlet phone numbers.

Now Rhodey’s gone.

“I really want to be alone,” Tony frowned, letting the bottle fall from his grip and roll across the ground. 

“Sir, I would rather you have company,” Vision insisted, floating over to Tony and kneeling beside him on the ground. 

“You’re too much like JARVIS,” Tony mumbled, before the world went dark.

He woke up in his bed with a pounding headache. Vision was gone.

He stayed in bed for a week after that, only getting up to use the washroom. The only thing in his stomach at any given time was water, and occasionally an Advil or a granola bar. He was a mess, crying every five minutes, fitfully sleeping away the hours, and waking up from nightmares, sweaty and with his pulse racing. He didn’t want to be stuck in bed, but every time he tried to get up and do something, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t make his legs work, he couldn’t focus, and he just found himself back in bed.

Then one day, the sole driving purpose of him finally getting out of bed, was for Christmas gifts.

He’d still send something to Pepper, maybe to Wakanda, something for Scott; he was a dad, right? To the Barton family, of course. Happy. Harley. The kid and his aunt. They deserved a good Christmas, even when Tony wasn’t having a good one. He’d get wine baskets, just like the ones Obie used to send. A ridiculously expensive Star Wars Lego set for the kid. A car engine or a circuit board for Harley, he’d have to be, what, seventeen? Sixteen? Old enough to be able to handle such machinery, that’s for sure. The Barton kids would love Segways, right? A Roomba? God, he really didn’t know kids all that well.

He crept over to his computer, ordered whatever felt right, and crawled back into bed, ignoring the tears on his cheeks and the salty taste of loneliness on his lips. It was his first time out of his bedroom in a solid week, and he pulled the covers around him, exhausted, vowing not to emerge until Christmas Eve.

So on Christmas Eve, he hauled himself out of his bed, brought the tree up, and decorated it alone. The Avengers compound was empty except for him. He never thought he’d might need somewhere else to live other than with the team, so he never got his mansion rebuilt, and that was a mistake. He really would rather be anywhere else.

Once the tree was done, he grabbed his coat and headed out, pulling his hat down to cover his face. He parked his car in a nearby Walmart and took a walk, admiring the Christmas lights around him, the bustle of the crowd, and the snow on the ground with a fresh dusting of loose snowflakes on top. It wasn’t a windy night, and it was perfect Christmas Eve weather.

He saw families window shopping, kids all decked out in puffed up winter jackets and rosy cheeks tight from the cold but stretched with the smiling. Faint Christmas music rang out from the stores and the carolers along the sidewalks, and Christmas displays lit up the windows. It was a picture-perfect holiday, and Tony had no part in it.

“Sorry, sir,” someone said bumping into him.

“Merry Christmas,” Tony said gruffly, and tipped his hat lower so that it almost covered his eyes.

He kept walking, handing out twenty-dollar bills to homeless people lining the streets, not stopping. He was vaguely aware of tears freezing on his cheeks, but he just kept his hat and head down to not draw attention. He was fine. He always was and he always will be.

He stopped at a jeweler’s. He picked up the shiniest and most expensive bracelet there, and let the cashier keep the change. He pocketed the bracelet and kept going, the cold weather starting to seep into his bones and the wind starting to make his nose run and his cheeks numb, but he still carried on with his walk.

He stopped at a grocery store and bought out an entire basket full of canned food. He put all of the cans in the food drive at the entrance of the same store, ignoring the smiles at his kind deed from the people walking. Just because he was having a crappy Christmas didn’t mean that others had to.

He found a street Santa and donated a handful of cash to him. The man thanked him and jingled the bell he held, wishing him a Merry Christmas. Tony nodded back and gave a watery smile, praying that the man wouldn’t see the frozen tears on his cheeks during their small exchange. He pulled his hat down more and looked at his feet as he walked, ensuring that nobody could see his face.

He went into a post office and mailed the bracelet to Pepper as priority mail. Their last truck would be tonight. He left a twenty-dollar tip for the driver and went back on his way. The driver shouldn’t have to work Christmas Eve, so the least Tony could do was pay him extra.

He passed a liquor store then did a double-take, walking through the doors. He purchased their best whiskey, tipping the person another twenty dollars. 

“Merry Christmas, sir,” the man said.

“And to you,” Tony said quietly, taking his purchase and walking out.

The walk back to his car was slightly less rewarding. The box that the bottle was in was conspicuous, and people frowned when they saw the long, slim, wooden box, but he shook it off. They didn’t know who he was. They would forget about the man with the hat pulled down until it nearly covered his eyes, with his head tilted toward the ground, and the box that carried expensive alcohol. He was insignificant. Always forgotten.

The cold bit his face, and when he finally made it to the sanctuary of his car, the relief and warmth on his chapped lips and dry skin made him sigh. He cranked up the heat and placed the wine box on the seat beside him, and just sat back closed his eyes, feeling warm tears prick the corners. It was late, it was the holidays, and a time to spend with family, but he was alone. Pepper was gone, Rhodey was getting treatment for something that was Tony’s fault, and the Avengers were all broken up and all collectively hated Tony for one reason or another. 

It was Christmas, and Tony Stark wasn’t a part of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter of closure; after all, it's Christmas :)

Tony woke up to his phone ringing. Which was strange. The only person who usually called him had a spinal surgery scheduled for… right now.

He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table, closing his eyes against the headache building under his temples. “‘lo?”

“Mr Stark,” Pepper’s voice rang clearly. She was with her family or something, background voices and laughter and the sound of boxes being opened and thank you’s were clear on her end.

Tony sat bolt upright in bed, groaning when the movement aggravated the headache. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that extra glass of whiskey before bed. “Hey, Pep; didn’t-”

“I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” she interrupted.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Tony tried to mask his disappointment. “Merry Christmas, Ms Potts.”

There was a pause on her end, followed by a bit of movement. The background voices were quieter. She must’ve stepped outside. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“I just- I’m,” Pepper paused. “I’m sorry you’re spending Christmas alone.”

“I’m used to it,” Tony admitted, even though there was a hollow ache in his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be,” Pepper said sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Merry Christmas, Pep,” he sighed, his heart heavy.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she told him, her tone of voice desperate.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead of reassuring her.

She hung up. He tossed the phone across the room, and fell back against his pillows.

Tony missed her. She was his light, and even when everything was going too fast and he had to keep up and went even faster, all she had to do was place a hand on his shoulder and he would slow, and the thoughts would slow, and all of the energy that initially made him feel like bouncing off the walls would somehow seep out of him and he’d finally be calm. His legs would stop bouncing, his hands would still, his brain would stop going five thousand miles an hour. He would be calm under her touch.

He was getting restless now; no Pepper to calm him down, to let him know that it’s okay to take breaks, and he hadn’t really gotten any work done wince the sixteenth. He got up to go to his workshop, grabbing a glass of brandy along the way. He’d need it.

\--

“Boss, you have some visitors.”

“No I don’t,” Tony said automatically to the AI, elbow deep in some machinery and feeling a slight bit tipsy.

“I have taken the liberty of inviting Mr Parker and his Aunt inside, and they are waiting in the communal kitchen,” FRIDAY said. “I suggest taking a shower.”

“Mhm,” Tony fell down in his office chair, his head in his hands.

What the hell were the Parkers doing here? The Avengers compound, it had to be, like, two hours away from Queens. It was Christmas. Peter should be enjoying the Roomba he’d ordered for them, building his new Millennium Falcon Lego set. He shouldn’t be here, where Tony was preparing himself to get drunk in peace, and spend Christmas alone like he deserved. 

“Boss.”

“I hear you,” he grumbled, finally getting up and crossing the room to the washroom.

Once he was finally dressed and clean and shaven, he took a deep breath and entered the kitchen area. He could smell the food (and God forbid Aunt May’s cooking), and was suddenly aware of how hungry he was (even though it smelled like a gassy dad had eaten brussel sprouts and asparagus). 

“Merry Christmas, Mr Stark!” Peter Parker yelled, waving from behind the breakfast bar. 

Tony grinned. “Merry Christmas, Spiderling. To whom do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I forced Aunt May to drive me here. We figured you could use a family,” Peter replied innocently, and Tony had to fight to keep his eyes from going soft.

“This didn’t turn out as great as I had hoped,” May said, opening the oven and pulling out a tray of… burnt croissants? “At least the cookies are salvageable.”

“Cookies for lunch!” Peter stated, then turned to Tony, his face apologetic. “Sorry we used your oven without asking. FRIDAY said it would be okay.”

“I don’t mind. The last person to use it was Dr Brucie Banner, and he, well,” Tony shrugged, immediately regretting opening his mouth. “Anyway, cookies for lunch sounds great.”

Peter frowned when Tony mentioned Dr Banner, as nobody really knew where he had gone (the press was quick to speculate), but his face lit up again at the mention of cookies.

“They’re Iron Man cookies, Mr Stark,” the kid showed him the cookie cutter they used. “I didn’t even know they made these. Are you getting profit from this?”

“Probably. I don’t know. Miss Potts takes care of the finance, I just explode things,” Tony mentally slapped himself. It was hard to hold a conversation without mentioning any of the things he’d lost.

“Open the present, Mr Stark. We put it under the tree,” Peter said, quickly changing the topic.

Tony turned to look at the tree he had set up the day before, with a small, singular, pathetic present under it. “Aw, kid. You didn’t have to-”

“It’s Christmas, Mr Stark. Besides, you got us something- _A Roomba, I’ve always wanted one_ \- and now we have to return the favour,” Peter argued.

“You just being here is enough, I was expecting to spend Christmas alone this year-”

“No one spends Christmas alone. That’s just not how Christmas works,” Peter said defiantly. “Now open your present.”

“You really don’t let me take my time, do you,” Tony teased, then picked up the gift bag from under the tree. He removed the tissue paper, and peered inside, picking out something soft and like clothing.

“It’s an Iron Man apron!” Peter grinned. “I picked it out.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Tony said, unable to contain the smile as he held it up in front of him. “Where did you even get this?”

“The geek store around the corner.”

Tony put it on, and tied the back. It was black, with the Iron Man armour printed on the front, complete with an arc reactor and details. He wouldn’t tell the kid, he didn’t need to know this information, but he would probably treasure it forever. It was like Rhodey’s sweater that he kept, the one that he got decades ago. A sweater that he hung in his closet, afraid to touch so that it would get ruined and unwearable. 

“Let’s go help Aunt Hottie with the food?” Tony said, kicking the empty gift bag over. “After all, I’m dressed for the occasion.”

“Just wait until Aunt May sees,” Peter ran into the kitchen, Tony in tow.

“May,” Tony forced a grin, knowing how ridiculous he looked.

Aunt May eyed him, then finally broke into a smile. “Looking good, Mr Stark.”

“Your nephew has good taste,” Tony smirked, then clapped his hands together. “So, let the feast begin?”

\--

Tony Stark, in all of his years, had never spent Christmas alone.

His parents had always been there, even if they weren’t always the friendliest. Jarvis had been good company. Rhodey was a phone call away.

And when his parents died, Rhodey invited him into his family, and he was quickly adopted by the kind Momma Rhodes and the many cousins, even if he did feel like an intruder. But they were always there, a welcoming family.

And when Tony moved, Pepper stayed with him. Sure, the Mandarin complicated things a bit, and they ended up not celebrating Christmas the proper way, with his suits exploding in the air and several near-death experiences, but they were together. Tony Stark wasn’t alone. He had a beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, who had seen him at his worst and she still stayed.

And then he had everything. He had friends. He had the Avengers, and he and his bad ass girlfriend celebrated Christmas with his friends and they drank and they had a good time, and Tony Stark didn’t feel alone. He didn’t feel like an intruder. He didn’t feel like someone was absent. Everyone was close, and fun, and he really, really missed those days.

And then when Pepper broke up with him and the Avengers broke up with each other, Peter Parker waltzed into his life like the nephew or cousin or heck, child, he never had. Peter with his big heart who probably knew what it was like to spend Christmas alone, with his Aunt working long hours and his parents dead. 

Even when Tony Stark expected to be alone, someone gave him company.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!! :)


End file.
